#EmmaPRIME

[dragon-fics]

HA: Ch. 1 The Storm Spire

Chapter summary: With the Cinder-Heart army defeated, a search party has been launched to find the greedy Dark Mage in Xadia

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

Heather stood by the opening to the Queen’s chamber, high in the peak of the Storm Spire. Her crimson eyes looked out at the sea of pinkish clouds below the suspended bridge of the Spire. She was back as a Dragonguard, with all her honour, guarding the Queen for the first time in months.

She wore her neat Dragonguard uniform with her red bowblade in hand, looking as fierce as the other two Dragonguards beside her; two of the other Dragonguards who had not been at the Spire when the Dark Mage had killed Avizandum and taken Prince Azymondias’ egg. Haco and Petra were the only two other Dragonguard’s who had survived the battle with the Cinder-Heart arm unscathed—two others were being treated for injuries.

Heather drew in a long breath, delighted to be back serving her Queen, the Queen of Dragons; Queen Zubeia. And Prince Azymondias, of course.

She lifted her hand to the moonstone that hung around her neck, containing the illusion that was still a Sunfire-elf-dragon-shifter, with false wings; sun-kissed skin; brunette hair; and red eyeshadow markings with a swirl beneath her lower eyelids. But underneath the glamour, nothing had changed since the incident a month ago.

“Do you need a break? To let your ‘true self’ breathe?” Asked the Sunfire elf Dragonguard beside her—Haco.

Heather shook her head. “No, no, I’m fine... just thinking.” She tucked the stone under her sash and stood still again.

But a few minutes later, she turned her head around, looking down the short corridor to Zubeia’s chamber.

“You’ll have to tell her soon,” Petra said. The Earthblood elf had almost become a maternal figure since Tiadrin had disappeared and since Scorchmark—Heather’s father—had disowned her out of fear; or so Heather believed.

“I know,” Heather mumbled. “And I plan to... She just seems so busy with everything that’s happ—ENED!” Petra and Haco shoved her into the tunnel.

“Just tell her. She’s not him, Heather,” Haco said. Heather knew exactly who he was referring to—her father.

“Give her our wishes!” Petra said, too loud for Heather’s sensitive ears to cope with, along with it being loud enough to guarantee it would reach Zubeia’s hearing. Heather sighed, exasperated, and faced the chamber ahead of her.

Can’t disappoint Her Majesty, she thought to herself. She started down the tunnel, the clinking of her bowblade touching the ground echoing against the stone walls as she walked.

The walk to The Queen’s chamber dragged on and on, much longer than Heather had ever remembered; the warm light that beamed into the chamber slowly grew closer with each step.

A soft rumble came from the chamber; Zubeia chuckling. Heather smiled absentmindedly as she heard it. For so long, Zubeia had filled the chamber with soft snores. Hearing her chuckle was a pleasant break from her slumbering breathing.

Finally, Heather stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at Queen Zubeia and Prince Azymondias, as the dragonling chirped at his dam from his spot on her head. He was a tiny pale blue speck against her dark blue scales.

Azymondias looked up from his dam to look at whoever had entered the room. He cooed and glided down to meet Heather at the top of the stairs. Heather bowed to him and Queen Zubeia, as was customary.

“What brings you to my chamber, young Dragonguard?” Queen Zubeia asked and Heather began down the steps, Azymondias on her shoulder.

“Your Majesty,” Heather began, inclining her head as she addressed the Queen. “I wish to speak to you about a... personal matter.”

Zubeia lowered herself to lie on the ground and inclined her head to study Heather. “I have a feeling it is about the talisman you wear around your neck.”

Heather froze. “You never cease to amaze me, Your Majesty,” she said, staring up at the archdragon. Zubeia’s lips lifted into a smile. “You are correct, Your Majesty, I wear an illusion to hide the remnants of an accident that occurred some time ago. And for me to no longer have to hide my physical appearance, I need to get in touch with the Archmage, Aaravos.”

*-*-*-*

Zubeia had been very understanding about Heather’s predicament, and with word that the Dark Mage who created the Cinder-Heart army hiding close to the Storm Spire, the hunt for the Dark Mage had begun.

The moon and stars were high above the search party and they scoured the base of the Spire, looking into each crack in the rock they came across. The party comprised Petra, Haco, Heather, Ibis, a dozen Sunfire elf soldiers and five master mages; the best magicians in Xadia, Ibis being one of them.

Heather drew in a long breath as she knelt on the ground; she could smell him. The filthy, disgusting smell of dark magic filled her nostrils, and it was getting stronger.

“Well?” Hissed a mage. Heather wasn’t sure which one as she never bothered learning their names when Ibis introduced them earlier; that and the dark magic was distorting her senses.

“He might be near... I’m not sure...” Heather whispered, rising to her feet and walking in the direction of the foul scent.

The mage tutted and hesitantly followed with the rest of his party.

He’s probably scared about the dark Mage absorbing his power. Heather tried to convince herself. Mages are richer in magic than soldiers.

We’re all scared of being absorbed and used in some disgusting way. Another part of Heather argued. She swept aside her thoughts and focused on the trail, gripping her blades’ handles.

Just ahead of the search party, Heather could see a faint lilac glowing come from a narrow cave mouth up ahead.

“There,” she pointed to where she could see the light. The elves behind her all looked to the craggy opening, furrowing their brows.

“So?”

Of course they can’t see the light, they’re elves. They can’t see light that’s that faint.

“There’s light coming from that cave. It’s faint, but I can see it. It might be worth checking out,” Heather offered quietly.

After a short, quiet discussion, Heather broke off from the group, completely invisible with the help of the Moonshadow mage who had come with the group. She easily slid into the opening in the rock and adjusted her sight to the lilac lighting in the cave. Inside she saw the Dark Mage, standing in his white dirt-dusted gown, and his apprentice, with half of her hair now completely white. They were both staring at the opposite wall where the lilac was being emitted.

She resurrected him! Heather realised with a scowl. She followed their gaze.

The source of the light was a large cocoon dangling from the ceiling of the cave. It pulsed as white noise came from it.

The caterpillar has to be in there. He has to be in there.

Heather backed slowly out of the cave to the search party, still invisible from all but dragon eyes.

“The Mage and his apprentice are in there, as is the caterpillar,” she whispered to the group. Her voice had spooked a few of them.

“Remember that our objective is the caterpillar, not the mages,” Petra said to the others. The other elves nodded.

On to phase two of the plan.

[dragon-fics]

DOS[holiday special]: Traditional to Not-So-Traditional {pt.7} (Ugauc X male elf/Reader)

Chapter summary: its wintertime and Ugauc and his "little elfling" go back to Mistpeaks. While they're there, Ugauc surprises the reader by preparing an elven feast.

Requested on DeviantArt)

pt. 1, Pt. 2, pt. 3 pt. 4, pt.5, pt. 6, pt. 8

“Ugauc?”

My call echoed around me in the foggy, snowy woodland as the cold prickled my neck. Without Ugauc by my side, I felt completely vulnerable to whatever the creatures Ugauc had smelled earlier.

Where has he gotten to?

My nervousness was making me impatient, and I just wanted to get out of these freezing temperatures.

Ugh! I miss the rainforest! It was so much warmer there, and there was tasty fruit to eat, instead of these bitter berries and hardly ripe apples.

My mind wandered to the warm sunshine and green canopy of the rainforest, leaving behind the bare trees and gloomy scenery around me. I could almost feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, replacing the cool dampness around me.

I miss home. And Festolgit is coming up soon... I wonder if dragons have anything to celebrate at the end of the year.

I looked around the little clearing I was in, scanning the fog for a muscular dragon-shifter in his humanoid form.

But I couldn’t spot him.

“Where are you, Ugauc?” I whispered, irritated. I wrapped my arms close to my torso under my cloak, trying to not feel warmer than my anxiety was allowing me to be.

I tightened my jaw, glancing around again, my anxiety only getting worse.

I heard the crunching of leaves and spun around, pulling out a dagger from beneath my dark cloak. I eyed the fog in front of me, keeping as stern of a face as I could, as my heart bet in terror.

I silently stood there in my battle stance, scared for my life.

Ugauc! I called out to him.

No response.

He couldn’t be that far away, so why isn’t he answering?

Has he run into something?

Is he hurt?

My mind raced, thinking of the worst thing that could have happened to him.

I stared at the spot, hearing only my breathing and racing heart as I watched for movement.

“Rah!” Shouted a voice, as his fingers dug into my sides as he launched himself from behind me.

I yelped and spun away from his grasp, cutting him with my blade. I stopped, eying my attacker from the opposite side of the clearing.

He seethed, holding his hand to his wounded face. “It’s nice to know your reflects are sharp.”

“Ugauc?” I looked to my blade, navy dragon blood dripping from the metal. I felt my heart drop.

“Ugauc... I am so sorry,” I apologize, stepping closer to his dark figure.

Ugauc came closer to me, dark blood seeping through his fingers as he held his hand to his cheek. “I’ll be fine, little elfling.” He removed his hand from his face and spit into it, before returning it to the slash of his face. “It’ll heal quickly.”

“You still shouldn’t have scared me like that!” I scolded. “I was so worried when you were gone for so long and didn’t respond.”

Ugauc’s lips lifted into a cruel smile, and he chuckled.

“What’s so amusing?!”

“How much you care.” I saw a scab already forming on his wound. “It’s adorable.”

I glared at him. “And what about the creatures you were tracking?”

“A couple of manticores who fled as soon as I got close to them. We’re fine... until they smell my blood.”

I rubbed my arms. “Then can we get going before they do that?”

Ugauc nodded his head calmly, ignoring my apparent irritation and distress. He smiled and pecked my brow. “Relax, little elfling. I’m fine. And I’m sorry for scaring you, I thought it would be funny.”

“And it clearly wasn’t,” I said, gesturing to his now sealed scar and dried blood around the wound.

Ugauc inclined his head. “I know.” He snapped his head around, scanning the foggy surroundings for whatever he heard.

“Let’s get going.”

*-*-*-*

“If you keep scratching like that, you’ll tear off your scales,” I called from the snowy shore of the lake. Ugauc crouched by the water, trying to rid his face of whatever blood was left around his wound.

“My dam will not bee happy seeing me without a shirt still, nevermind with dried blood on my face also,” Ugauc replied, glancing up at Mistpeaks. We had arrived a little while ago, after a few hours of flying.

I smiled. “She didn’t raise a barbarian dragon,” I quoted, watching him as he finished washing his face.

Ugauc chuckled. “No, she didn’t.”

“And yet you attacked me.”

Ugauc looked over his shoulder, looking hurt. “I thought you said we were ok now? That you had forgiven me?”

“You are, I’m just looking forward to hearing the story you’re going to tell your parents. You couldn’t have got it naturally.”

“Sometimes I really dislike you, little elfling.” Ugauc rose to his feet and walked over to me.

I simply smirked. “And yet you still whisper in my ear how much you love me every night.”

Ugauc chuckled and pecked my cheek. “Very true.” He kissed me on the lips.

“Ugh! Get a room!” Called a feminine voice from above. Ugauc and I snapped our heads up. Above us perched in a tree was a dragon-shifter, crouched and looking down at us. Ugauc stood between me and the tree, eying her in the bright winter sun.

Ugauc snarled at her.

“That’s no way to greet your sister,” she responded.

“Hey, Udauh,” I said, walking in front of Ugauc.

Udauh laughed and jumped down from the tree. “Hello, (Y/N).” She tossed my hair with her hand and looked at Ugauc.

“Udauh,” Ugauc disdained.

Udauh made a playful face at Ugauc. “Hello to you too, parvus frater.”

“Para what?” I asked.

“Little brother,” Ugauc translated.

I eyed Ugauc. “Dragons have their own language?”

“Apart from growls and grunts? yes, we do.”

Udauh giggled. “But even in this form, some males chose to not use their snarls.”

*-*-*-*

“So, Ugauc told me that not every dragon has a second form. Do you know why?” I asked Udauh. She was trying to keep me occupied—I just didn’t know why.

“There’s a bet it’s to do with genetics and magic. But some think it might have to do with some of us being bound to elves, or other non-draconic beings—like werewolves. Either way, its magic.”

I nodded. “At least you had an answer.”

Udauh giggled. “Ugauc likes to give an answer that he’s absolutely certain about.”

I smiled and nodded. “Yeah.” I glanced around, making sure none of the dragons in the canyon saw me. “So... do dragons have any festivals? Or holidays? Or feasts?”

Udauh shook her head. “No, nothing annually like elves have. We celebrate personal successes; like our trial to become clanmembers—like your hunt; or when we find our soulmates. It’s usually a family feast with the best of prey to eat.”

I nodded, hiding my disgust as best as I could; the thought of dragons eating other creatures still made my stomach churn, even after eating with Ugauc for almost a year.

I saw Udauh glance up at her parents’ cave, which was where we were staying for the time being since a draconic found Ugauc’s old cave and had made themselves at home in it.

Udauh’s lips curled into a smile. “Right, let’s get up there; I’m getting cold.” She lifted herself into the sky and flew off.

“Udauh!” I hissed. She turned around, looking down at me in the vegetation of the rocky valley. She elegantly flew done to me.

“Sorry,” she whispered. She shifted to her turquoise dragon form and took me up in her talons, keeping me as best hidden as she could; it was a very unnerving experience; sitting in her claws.

But after a few heart-racing minutes, Udauh landed in the cave's mouth and gently placed me on the cold stone. I got to my feet.

“Thanks, Udauh,” I said with a bow and slowly walked in. The chamber was lit up with tiny candles on the ledges in the walls. On the floor, there was a nice spread of fruits and cooked pieces meat all sitting on pieces of bark or stone on a blanket I had brought from my home. It reminded me of of of our winter festival, Festolgit.

“Merry Festolgit, (Y/N),” Ugauc said, smiling widely and wrapping me in a hug.

I smiled into his now covered chest. “Merry Festolgit, Ugauc,” I said, pulling away from him. “But I didn’t get you anything—that’s what Festolgit is all about.”

“I’ve already got the best gift ever,” he smiled. “You.” He pecked my nose.

I smiled, embarrassed. “Ugauc!”

[dragon-fics]

HA: Ch. 12 Discovery

Chapter summary: Heather (finally) begins her study of magic, practicing with Aaravos. All the while, she'd discovering more about herself.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11

“Now say; crescere,” Aaravos instructed as his lime green rune made the tiny stem in his mini mountain of dirt grow in his hand, blooming into a fiery orange flower.

Heather glanced at her own pile of soil and sad little stem. “Crescere,” she echoed in a quieter voice than Aaravos. Her stem grew stronger and higher, its leaf rising towards the blue sky. A bubble of joy inflated inside of her as a bud formed and bloomed into a tiny blue flower, no bigger than the pad of her thumb. But then her bubble popped and the blue flower withered, fading to grey. Its leaves crumpled up, and they drifted to the grassy forest floor with the petals.

Heather sighed, her ears drooping. She brushed the dirt off of her hand and looked at her crossed legs.

Aaravos placed his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Heather. It was only a first try,” he reassured.

Though Heather didn’t find it very reassuring. She felt so bad about the death of a tiny flower; it almost made her feel silly. But inside she felt as if that plant had been part of her, like a child—that thought was repulsive; she hated children. Yet she felt so fond of it.

“Why didn’t it work?” she asked, looking at Aaravos. She had been practising her Draconic with Khonsu diligently, building up her vocabulary and grammar, not to mention how hard she’d been studying the books of the arcana Aaravos had given her, and all the meditation she’d been doing. Heather was so sure it would work, so confident that her work had paid off.

This was why she hated magic. Unlike fighting, it required so much knowledge about so many things she didn’t deem practical, and meditation, and understanding. And even after all that, it didn’t work.

Aaravos glanced at her hands. “If I could have a guess, it’s that you haven’t built up enough magic to hold the spell and project enough into the plant to keep it alive.”

Heather sighed. It was logical at least, but it just made her feel angry that magic was like fighting. She’d thought of them as completely different; one you were born with, the other you worked for. And the more she went into her training, the more incorrect her idea became.

What troubled her was why she disliked magic so much; it had never harmed her, not to mention Khonsu—a battlemage—was her best friend. Yet she always disliked it, thinking it was something mages inherited. Not trained on—simply thinking they were just ‘born lucky’ with an immense skill that just grew as they did, never having to work on it. But as her lessons went on, she realised it was very different. So much work went into studying the language and learning the runes and building up the endurance to use the magic in the way she needed to use it—just like fighting.

Fighting required knowledge of the many forms to fight with many weapons and building up the strength, agility, and endurance to use the forms in the way she needed to use them.

So why did she still dislike magic?

Heather had lay awake the past few nights thinking about it. The only plausible reason she could come up with was that she, for some reason, associated magic with elves—beings who had brought her nothing but misery throughout her life. And she had to get out of that way of thinking because there was dragon magic, often referred to a mimicking—using the elements in what way they needed—fire for light and warmth, water for healing, earth for building and movement, and air for enhanced flying; and all could be used for fighting.

She shook her thoughts away and glanced around at the tall trees and lush undergrowth in the clearing. How much energy had they needed to grow? She could feel their primal energy all around her; a calm current of life that circled her, Aaravos, and Khonsu in this clearing under the pale morning sun.

Heather held her head in her hands, frustrated. Why did this have to be so difficult? She didn’t even want this power, so why should she have to work so hard to make it work.

She flopped onto the ground and huffed. “Why me?” she whispered, looking up at the sun. Its rays beamed warm energy down onto her, as it always had, but now it seemed to be easier to gain—by strengthening her understanding, she had strengthened her connection with one of her original primal sources.

Out of the corner of her eye, Heather saw Khonsu shift guiltily. She pushed herself up, meeting his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Su,” she said, sidling closer to him. “I’m angry at myself, not you.”

Khonsu looked down, his bangs falling forward, blocking her from meeting his eyes. Seeing him like this made her heart ache. She had hurt her closest—and only—friend, and she felt awful.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” Aaravos said, gathering his book and cloak and disappearing into the trees.

Heather placed her hand on his back, assuring him as best as she could. He looked up at her, and she gave him a soft smile.

“I’m sorry all this happened,” he started. “I know you’ve never liked magic, and you probably hate me. And I get it. I’d hate me too.” He sighed. “But I really am sorry.”

She smiled, moving her hand to his shoulder. “I’ve never hated you, Khonsu,” she said. “You’re my best friend and I couldn’t ask for anyone better.” She smiled. “I just hate what’s happening and I wish I could control it or reverse it.”

She looked up. “But I guess now, I understand what it’s like to be a mage and that it really isn’t something you’re just born good at.” She took his hand in hers, wrapped her five fingers around his four. “Just please don’t tell anyone I’m bad at it,” she whispered, looking away sheepishly.

Khonsu smiled and chuckled quietly. “Sure, I’ll keep it to myself.”

*-*-*-*

Heather’s ears dropped, and a scowl formed on her face. “Why won’t anyone realise that she just got lucky?” she muttered angrily. Up ahead—far ahead—with all the soldiers, Dragonguard and not, was Rayla, chatting and joking away as if she had been among them all for years; which she hadn’t.

Réalta snorted angrily, shaking his head and folding back his glowing orange ears as Heather’s raging emotion flowed through him.

After all her training and fighting and proving herself worthy of being a Dragonguard, someone who happened to get lucky, with her top skill of hesitation, was sliding right into her spot—which Heather had earned!—and acting like she was worthy of wearing their sash. Heather had tried looking past her history with Rayla—she really had—and mostly, she succeeded. But Rayla hadn’t even taken the Dragonguard test, or trained as a soldier, or anything! Now she was angry at her for how easy it was for her to get on the most elite team in all of Zubeia’s army.

Heather grumbled and bundled her hand into a fist. She hated this! The ‘getting lucky’ part especially.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Aaravos glance at Khonsu in a way she didn’t like. “What is it, Sparkles?” she hissed, straightening up.

Aaravos rode forward beside her on his primal stead—who had re-joined with him shortly after he was free from Stella Carcerem. “I thought you said you were done with your rivalry with Rayla,” he said. She could see the faintest hint of a smirk on his face.

“You will not corrupt me, Sparkles,” she said, keeping a proud stance. Though she was thinking back to all she had shared with him, wondering if he had already planted his seeds of corruption. “Besides, it wasn’t a rivalry, it was a grudge,” she corrected, calming herself, though she really wanted to go over there and shove Rayla out of the group.

“Still, I thought you were done with it.”

“I’m done with the grudge—though I haven’t forgiven her, she has my respect—” she watched as Rayla laughed wildly at one of Haco’s jokes. She leaned forward and drooped her ears with a scowl “—for now.”

“Jealous, I see,” Aaravos observed.

Heather sat up again. She would not tell him he was right; she knew she was jealous, and she was alright with it. “So? She got lucky. She didn’t even kill the Dark Mage; I’ve killed six—”

“Eight, if Tiadrin and Lain hadn’t finished off the other two,” Khonsu interjected.

Heather nodded, surprised a little by his defence—but that was what he was like, loyal and caring and quiet.

Aaravos glanced aside. “Remind me not to get you angry or to make an enemy of you.”

“Good idea,” Khonsu commented.

Heather chuckled. “Do you think she’ll get caught out?” she asked, gesturing her head to Rayla.

“With her parents training her?” Khonsu mused. “I don’t think so; they were assassins turned Dragonguards, they’ll have a good idea how to train her.”

“If she can stop hesitating,” Aaravos mused.”

Heather nodded. “Nice to know you guys see it too.” She rummaged through Réalta’s saddlebag, pulling out her notebook and opening on the page that had My Traits scribbled at the top. She read over what she had already written; Likes to be in control; focused; frustrated easily; conservative. She pulled out her piece of lead sandwiched by two thin pieces of wood and wrote, proud, at the end of the list.

Heather glanced up at the group of soldiers ahead of them and added, respectful when proven honourable. She read over the list again and closed the book. She was one step closer to getting out of this never-ending maze of self-discovering.

[dragon-fics]

HA: Ch. 2 The Little Bug Pal

Chapter summary: Heather has been placed in charge of watching the four-foot-long caterpillar, and he wants an answer as to why he’s wanted.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

Weapons clinked, and fighters grunted outside the cave. Heather was not one of them.

Instead, she was staring up at the light-emitting cocoon. Looking at it with a certain sense of awe.

Now that she was up close to it, she now noticed that it was larger than any human or elf she had ever met. She was short for her age, but she reckoned three of her could cul up in the cocoon with plenty of room to spare.

Since all the mages and soldiers were outside battling the Dark Mages, Heather didn’t need to stay hidden. She removed the invisibility spell and gripped her blades with a hard face. Whether or not she liked it, the bug inside this cocoon, the creator of dark magic, was her only hope of ever finding herself again. Since gaining the moon arcanum, Heather had lost what little family she had; she lost her honour and pride as a Dragonguard; and she lost her wings, her freedom.

And this bug was the only being who could help her get all those back.

No more hiding. No more fear. No more pain.

That had been her motto since she had left the Silvergrove.

Hiding, fear and pain; the three things she hated most in the world.

Heather raised her blade. She could hear the fighting dying down and the sound of hoofbeats leaving the Spire.

She swiftly brought down her blade, making an incision in the cocoon. Lilac luminescent goo dripped from the incision. Heather jolted back as the stench of the goo hit her. It reminded her of rotten eggs and meat; a truly awful combination. She gagged and grimaced.

The goo sluggishly dripped from the limp cocoon. Heather pushed aside her disgusted and made another incision, slicing the cocoon even deeper. This time most of the luminescent goo fell from the cocoon, splatters clinging to Heather’s clothes.

“Ugh!” Heather said, disgusted. She was about to shake the goo from her blade and bare arm when something dark and slender slid from the no-longer-bright cocoon. Heather looked to what had fallen from the cocoon.

On the slimy mountain of goo lay a four-foot-long midnight blue caterpillar, covered with scattered white specks and a twinkling diamond on each segment of its body.

The caterpillar looked up at her in an almost disgusted look, as if she insulted it by stopping it from becoming an unstoppable force.

Heather swallowed her disgust and looked down at the caterpillar. “Help me, and I can get you your freedom back the easy way. Please,” she whispered.

The caterpillar’s mouth chattered and launched itself at Heather.

She grabbed its head as it neared her, tempted to crush it as she held it in front of her body. “Listen, Sparkles, I don’t want to be your student any more than you want to pass on your knowledge—“ she took off her necklace with her free hand, revealing her blotched skin, silver eyes and semi-white hair, “—but I need your help and the Queen is considering setting you free while you teach me. That’s what all this is about, right? Lux Aurea; the Cinder-Heart Army; the Dragon Prince, all an attempt to be free from Stella Carcerem?” At this, it surprised the caterpillar that she knew the name of its master’s prison, if it relaxing its body was any hint of emotion. “I can get you out, so long as you teach me.”

The caterpillar did not respond, it just hung limply in her grasp.

Heather slipped on her necklace again. “Sleep on it, okay?” She offered. “Somnum,” Sleep, she whispered. The caterpillar passed out, its body dangling in Heather’s hand.

She shouldered the giant bug and walked out of the cave. “This better be worth the effort,” she looked down at her clothes, “and the stench.”

*-*-*-*

Heather sat on the chair in her dorm, the wood creaking as she moved forward to hold her head in her hands. Beside her, on her writing desk, sat lit candles, a steaming cup of tea and several memoirs of Aaravos’—the few books that existed about him which she could read without the pages being destroyed.

She looked at the thin leather-backed books. She had found hundreds on them in the Archmage’s library, all of them accounting for almost every day in his life—apart from the last three hundred years. She placed her necklace on the desk and picked up the one she was currently reading, glancing at the cover.

Gold embroidery of the sun arcanum symbol partially overlapping with the silver embroidery of the moon arcanum symbol looked up at her, with No. 46 embroidered beneath the symbols. Each bit of the string shone in the pale moonlight that came from behind her.

Heather flicked through the parchment, her eyes passing over each account, catching the words Dear diary at the start of each entry.

Eventually, she landed on the entry she had started earlier that day. She smiled slightly to herself and read through the passage.

As she read, she reached for her tea, taking a sip as she scanned through the words. As she continued to read, she played with her loose strands of brunette and white hair, before reaching for her golden horn cuffs and pulling out the small, almost shimmering, bright orange phoenix feather from it. She twirled the shaft of the feather in between her fingers.

Heather sighed softly. “Hey, Phil,” she greeted softly, lowering her book. She felt pretty stupid to be talking to his ghost feather, but she didn’t have anyone else to talk to, and maybe he was hearing all she said—but she doubted it very much.

She opened her mouth to continue her account of the day when she heard a clicking come from her bed. She lowered her book and Phil’s feather and looked to her bed where the blue caterpillar lay—she had almost forgotten it was in the room. The clicking came from its mouth, as its beak opened and closed, as it stirred from its sleep and as its master was taking control.

Heather jumped to her feet and eyed the bug. She grabbed a dagger from her belt and held it with a reverse grip.

Slowly, the bug lifted its head from the bedcovers to look at her.

“Where am I?” A deep, masculine voice came from its mouth.

“Still in your prison, I presume,” Heather replied satirically.

The caterpillar seemed to scowl at her. “Very funny.”

“You’re in my dorm in Spireville’s barracks. You’ve been placed under my protection and watch while you’re like this.” She gestured to the caterpillar’s body.

It retracted its body close to it, curling up on the bed. “You don’t seem very afraid of me... or as threatening as you had been earlier,” Aaravos mused.

Heather glanced down at the dagger in her hand, unsure of how she wasn’t ‘as threatening’ as she had been earlier, considering how close they were to each other.

“I’m presuming you’re Aaravos? The Archmage? Or what do I call you?”

A chuckle escaped the caterpillar’s mouth. “Yes, I am Aaravos—though I doubt I am considered the Archmage anymore.” The caterpillar rolled up most of its body as it sat near the top of the bed. “If I remember correctly, I was referred to as ‘Little Bug Pal’.”

Heather loosened her stance. “Little Big Pal?” She questioned, unable to hide the smile in her voice.

“Yes,” he replied seriously. “Humans have a strange way of naming things.” He remarked. Heather nodded her head in agreement.

The caterpillar looked around the room, then to Heather, scanning her from head to toe.

“What happened to you?”

[dragon-fics]

DOS: Reunion to Introduction {pt. 8} (Ugauc X Male Elf/Reader)

Chapter summary: After over almost 2 years of travelling with Ugauc, you return home to your snowy elf village to introduce your family to Ugauc’s family. 

pt. 1, Pt. 2, pt. 3 pt. 4, pt.5, pt. 6, pt. 7

N/T = New Trade (the one from previous chapters)

I walked around the white clearing as Ugauc and his family shifted, the snow beneath me crunching as I walked. I looked over at them, all dressed in their tunics. It disappointed me that Ugauc now had one because I really enjoyed seeing his muscles every time he shifted—and I could never tire of seeing them.

Udauh spotted me looking at them and slid over. “So... You and Ugauc got busy last night, huh?” She raised her eyebrows twice with a smirk.

I froze in my stride. “You heard?!” I hissed quietly. I thought we had snuck far enough away to ‘enjoy ourselves’ the night before.

Udauh burst out laughing. “You two weren’t the quietest... Then again, I did wander off to find you... and Mother and Father said they didn’t hear anything during the night.”

I held my face in my hands, embarrassed. I groaned audibly and Udauh giggled.

“I won’t tell anyone.” I looked at her as she placed a hand on her chest. “I promise, little elfling,” she smirked again. I crossed my arms, unimpressed.

Ugauc walked over to us. “What have you done to upset my boyfriend?” He said, exasperated.

Udauh raised her head smugly. “I’ve done no such thing!” She insisted. Ugauc cocked a brow at me, I looked away.

Ugauc shooed his sister away and stood beside me, placing a wing on my back.

“She heard us last night,” I whispered, twirling a lock of my hair sheepishly.

Ugauc chuckled. “Udauh,” he sighed, “Always nosey.”

I smiled and turned towards the faint outline of the snowy valley filled to the brim with coniferous trees and three elven villages. I couldn't believe it had been almost two years since I’d left here.

My home.

Ugauc pecked my head. “Are you ready to go down?”

I nodded. “Absolutely.”

Ugauc looked back to his family. “We’re trusting you all to stay quiet and out of sight. No shifting, no roaring, no growling or snarling and no fire-breathing,” he told them sternly. One thing I had noticed about them was that the cold didn’t really bother them much. It had for their hour of being in the snowy northern region, but they quickly adapted to the cold. I, on the other hand, had gotten so used to the warmth of the rainforest and the temperature change was a shock to my system.

Epho and Koro inclined their heads. “Udauh?” Ugauc asked warily.

His sister looked at him with a pouting expression. “You’re no fun!” She accused childishly.

Ugauc sighed, exasperated. “Udauh...”

“We’ll make sure she doesn’t do anything to ruin this meeting,” Koro said, touching Ugauc’s shoulder. “Go, we’ll be fine, and careful.”

Ugauc nodded and turned around. “Alright, let’s go.”

*-*-*-*

I peered around a tree, looking at the village I called home. Every elf was walking around, doing their business and going about their day. I knew these faces; there were a few I wanted to run up to and ask how they had been.

But I couldn’t.

I pulled up the hood of my cloak and got ready to step out into the street.

“Will you be all right?” Ugauc asked, crouched above me in a tree several feet behind me.

I nodded. “As long as I don’t draw attention to myself, I’ll be fine.” I blew him a kiss, and he blew one back.

“Stay safe,” he breathed. I smiled and started down the cobbled street.

Not much had changed; there were a few new potted plants on buildings, but business was still booming, even at Fírning’s shop—Fírning was my (N/T) mentor two years ago, after I had failed the hunting test.

I strode through the street, keeping to the side with my head down. I focused on my thoughts:

Have they missed me?

Will they be happy to see me?

Are they all right? Has anything befallen them?

What if something has happened, and I wasn’t here?

What if they won’t want to meet Ugauc’s family?

As I was getting worked up, I had bumped into someone, knocking their books, scrolls and some arrows from the quiver to the ground.

I yelped in surprise. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” As I helped to pick up the scrolls, books and arrows, I noticed that the someone was in fact two someones. As we bundled up everything, I noticed that one of them wore a pair of boots I had before I left—but that could be anyone as there were very few shoemakers in our village.

As we stood up, I handed over what I had gathered.

“Thanks,” said a male voice, one that I knew.

I looked at their faces. “Eda? Eldrin?” I whispered.

“(Y/N)?” Eldrin asked, smiling.

“What are you doing back here?” Eda hissed. “Did Ugauc abandon you?” She accused, pulling a dagger from her belt as she put away the arrows in the quiver on her back.

“No!” I hissed. “No, nothing like that has happened. But I do need to talk to you all. Are Mama and Papa home?”

Eldrin nodded. “We’re just heading back now.”

“So what’s so important you came back from your fabulous travels to see us?” Eda asked. She glanced at my stomach. “Are you pregnant? Did Ugauc somehow get you pregnant?”

I furrowed my brow as we walked, disturbed. “What? No! That’s not even possible. I’m a cisgender male elf—What!” I was so confused by what had come out of her mouth.

Eda burst out into a wild laugh. “I’m joking,” she hollered as we neared our home. “But seriously; why are you home?”

*-*-*-*

Our families got on surprisingly well when they met. Our mother’s talked a lot about what we did when we were young, our sisters enjoyed sharing similar stories; except these were when they would beat us at fighting or spill our very embarrassing secrets. Eldrin sat with us as we eavesdropped on the groups, paying more attention to what our fathers were talking about; impressive hunts they had and hunting and stalking techniques they had picked up.

But no one ever mentioned a single thing about attacks or massacres or elves or dragons they had killed.

I looked around at them all, talking and getting along; if only every elf and dragon could get along like this. It was a gathering of murmurs and stories around the campfire in the snowy clearing.

Eldrin tapped me on the shoulder, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“Hm?” I asked, turning to him. He seemed nervous, pressing his sleeve-covered hands together.

“Someone’s watching us, and I... I... I’m bound to him,” he whispered, fiddling with his covered hands. I tilted my head to him.

“(Y/N),” Ugauc hissed.

“His name is Vostrasz,” he continued, “and... he’s a dragon... and my soulmate.”

I looked to Ugauc. “Was that what you were gonna tell me?” He nodded as I saw a set of glowing yellow eyes come from the surrounding darkness.

Ugauc and I weren’t alone.

I finished The Owl House last night and AAAAAHHH! typing the name Eda was kinda painful! But at least she’s still alive (both of them)! If you’ve seen it, lemme know what you think of it?

[dragon-fics]

HA: Ch. 10 Escapees

Chapter summary: with the mirror now found, Heather sets out to get the mages to release Aaravos. But a problem arises; they don't know the spell.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11

Heather paced the small dungeon cell, fury boiling through her blood. “Why don’t they have their damned books?!” she yelled, whirling around to look at the pale-glowing mirror. “How did they think they were gonna get you out? Ask the mirror nicely?!”

Aaravos smirked, chuckling as Heather rambled on.

“Why did they think they were here?! To see all the wonders of the human kingdoms? To see how little magic there is? To learn the ways of the Dark Mages?!” She groaned audibly, and hit a brick in the wall, cracking it. She looked at the web-like imprint on the stone and sighed, calming herself. She turned to the mirror and flopped down on the large chair in front of Aaravos.

He looked down at her, and then away, closing his eyes with a sigh.

Heather held her head in her hands. “You knew... and you were right. I’m sorry,” she said, looking up at him.

A copper-blue chair suddenly appeared behind him, and he lowered himself gracefully into it. “This isn’t your fault, little one. You have nothing to apologize for.” He looked aside at the tall jade shelves lined with comprehensive books. “It is disappointing though, to find out I’ll still be in here for longer than expected. It may sound silly, but recently the days have seen longer than usual.”

“I bet,” Heather replied, scanning the bare stone walls around her. She’d never admit it, but she felt sympathy for Aaravos, though her mind wished she didn’t. She rested her elbow on the arm of the chair, narrowly missing the hard puddle of melted wax left by Viren, and pressed her cheek against it. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something slouched against the mirror on Aaravos’ side.

“What’s that?” she asked. It seemed so out of place, a black, dull object in the bright blues of the study.

Aaravos followed her gaze. “Just a bag of things I want to take with me... if I get out,” he sighed sadly.

Heather cocked a brow. “What sort of things?”

“More memoirs—though they’re not as exciting as the one’s you’re reading. And there’s some other... things.”

“Other things?” she asked, looking from Aaravos to the bag. “What sort of other things?”

“Just—“ He glanced aside “—just gifts I want to give to someone special.”

She looked down. “Who? A lover?”

Aaravos shook his head. “No, no. More of a close friend, someone I’m thankful to have in my life... I’m just not sure if she’s feels the same.”

Heather smiled. “I’m sure she’ll understand—maybe after an explanation about how you ended up in here. And the gifts, bit if she’s dear to you then I’m sure she’ll love them. How long have you been working on them?”

“I only started them recently; they’re not finished yet. I didn’t really think of starting them sooner because, well,” he paused, looking at her with a smile, “I didn’t think I’d be getting out soon.”

Heather looked at her hand, a ball of sorrow tightening in her chest, and curled it into a fist.

“Have you been honest with me so far? About your imprisonment and your ‘Act of Equity’ that was given to the wrong person?”

“Yes?” Aaravos asked, worry seeping into his words—a strange tone to hear from him. “I would never lie to you.”

She swallowed her pity and rose to her feet. “Get your bag. If they won’t get you out, then let me try.” She clenched her fist so hard that her nails left tiny indents in her palm.

Aaravos bolted up to his feet and gripped the sides of the mirror. “Heather, no! Think! If you do this, I could be lost forever! I’ll never be free from here!”

Heather paused, relaxing her hands. She just wanted to punch the glass, to break this window to his dimension. It just... felt like the right thing to do.

She took in a breath and stood straight, pulling back her hand. “Get your bag; I’m getting you out of there.”

He paused, glancing at his bag. He took a deep breath, pulled on his cloak and shouldered his bag. “Alright, I trust you.”

She nodded and threw a punch at the glass. Her arm jarred upon impact. She retracted her hand, shaking her hand to get rid of the pain.

Aaravos sighed. “It’s ok, Heather. You tri—“

Heather slammed her other fist into the glass, this time leaving a dark webbed-crack in the glass. She hit the glass again and again. A pale beam of light shone through a long diagonal crack. She winced, glancing at her knuckle. Black dragon blood dotted her tanned hands.

She drew in a last breath and punched the glass, bright light washing through the room where a chunk of glass was now gone. Heather reached through the gap, grabbing a cool hand and pulling it towards her. After some effort, a tall, dark someone stumbled through in front of her, as white light blinded her. Before she could check who stood in front of her, a frightening whizz came from what was left of the mirror. She kept a firm grip on the person’s wrist and rushed out of the room, tucking herself to the side and closing the door. A flash of bright light and the sound of glass and metal crashing to the floor came from inside.

Heather gulped. Had it worked?

She swivelled her head around, her scarlet eyes meeting a pair of golden ones surrounded by purple sclera. She shifted, turning her entire body around, looking over who was in front of her; the gold eclipse on the hood of his cloak; his midnight blue ombré skin; the stray lock of white hair on his forehead; and the blackened star in the centre of his chest.

“It worked,” she whispered in disbelief.

Aaravos touched her head, patting her brunette locks. His brow furrowed. “You’re really there. I can touch you. You—you got me out,” he breathed. He felt her face, and then her shoulders, confirming that she was actually there.

Heather smiled. “Yeah, I know.”

[dragon-fics]

His Apprentice (HA): Prologue: Struck in the Heart

His Apprentice (The Dragon Prince Fanfiction)

[Mentor!Aaravos x OC story]

Story summary/Blurb: Heather Scorchmarkdaughter is one of the best Dragonguards in Xadia. But her life is flipped around when a friend of hers strikes her with moon magic, forming another arcanum. 

Now Heather is trying to master moon magic and the rest of the arcana, all the while hiding from most of those around her. 

But her struggle is made a little easier when King Viren comes to attack the Storm Spire, bringing the only person who can help Heather back to Xadia; the Archmage Aaravos.

(this was written after season 3 and before the release of Through The Moon) !DISCLAIMER!: The cover art and all pictures/gifs used in this book belong to their rightful owners. The Dragon Prince is owned by Netflix and Wonderstorm as do any Dragon Prince characters who appear in this book.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

Heather Scorchmarkdaughter looked down at the ever-burning coals in the centre of the stone theatre. She peered down into the bowl, the fiery glow of the coals catching the sparkle of her crimson scaled wings and sweat droplets of her tanned skin. She looked across the bowl at the Moonshadow elf across from her and smirked at him, her striking canines and red eye-shadow markings shining in the warm light. He playfully smirked back and drew another silvery rune with his finger, creating a white orb of moon magic and hovering it between his hands.

Heather drew a similar rune with an orange tint, creating a ball of sun magic—or fire magic, as Heather called it.

“Do your worst, halfling,” the Moonshadow elf taunted, still holding his playful smirk.

Heather chuckled, elves had called her worse by many elves—Moonshadow elves in particular—her bloodline wasn’t pure, not like everyone else’s. Part Sunfire elf, part fire dragon-shifter; a strange mix and one that had cost her her happiness for many years.

“Don’t tempt me, Khonsu,” she responded, channelling more energy towards the glowing orb in her hand, making it glow brighter. Khonsu mimicked her action.

Khonsu threw his orb at her. Heather flared her wings and threw hers at him. After travelling some distance they cancelled each other out, a cloud of red and silver ember-like particles floating at the collision point.

Heather crossed her arms against the woven core design of her figure-hugging black vest. The neck, shoulders, and small chest window all had a red accent; as did her black boots—she had never been one for lots of colour. She moved towards where they had left their bags, and he walked towards her. Like most Moonshaow elves he wore a display of turquoises and dark greens, comprising a top that ended above his stomach, a wide belt and a split skirt that showed most of his trousered legs. He had two curved purple markings on his cheeks that came from each ear; one curved up towards his inner eye, the one below it was curled down to look like a crescent moon. A typical mage outfit and markings if you asked Heather; which he was.

Khonsu had wanted to be a battle-mage, which is how he met Heather in elven military boot camp four years ago. Unluckily for him, he had been paired with the one elf-dragon that despised Moonshaow elves and could throw him six feet with ease. And she was eleven at the time. He was twelve.

The small rubies that dangled from the gold chains between Heather’s gold horn cuffs and her hoop earrings clinked against their chains as she knelt beside the bag. Heather picked up her black satchel and rummaged through it for a small string-drawn bag. The enchanted gems inside clinked as she pulled the bag open. Inside were purple and red gems the size of a child’s palm, each one with enchantment to hold moving pieces of lifelike-art; fire art. And each one of these gems contained a small portion of certain Archmage’s story. Not the Archmage Kalani, but his former apprentice; Aaravos, the Archmage imprisoned in a mirror that had been missing for months, since King Avizandum’s death.

Heather looked back at the smouldering ever-burning coals below her in the centre of the theatre. She reached her hand out and called the gems inside the fire, out, catching them in her hand as they flew towards her from the flames. She placed them on top of the others in her bag and placed the bag in her satchel.

Heather stretched, her bones popping and cracking. “I’d say we’re done here, don’t you think, Khonsu?” A few loose strands of her brunette hair wavered in the warm breeze from the ever-burning coals.

“I guess,” Khonsu shrugged, the white hair of his split fringe waving. “But surely the Heather Scorchmarkdaughter wouldn’t stop battling her opponent because she was ‘done’.”

Heather shook her head. “I have training with what’s left of the Dragonguard.” She fixed her hair, plaiting it and tying it in a bun.

“One more shot?” Khonsu coaxed. Heather shook her head. “C’mon. Just. One. More.” He took a step closer to her with each word.

Heather turned around. “I can’t, I’m already late.” She gave him a backhanded wave.

Khonsu drew the same rune as before and when Heather was several paces away, hurled the orb of pale blue magic at her. He expected her the hear it the second the orb left his palm, but she didn’t.

At the last second, Heather turned around. The orb hit her chest, and she froze, eyes wide.

She stumbled backwards, feeling cold. But that was impossible... she had never felt this way before... not since six feet of snow buried her when she was seven.

Khonsu ran up to her as the cold in her chest spread through her body. Deep inside she could feel something... like a spark, but different... like she had figured something out about herself. But there was nothing else left for her to figure out. She was happy as a soldier.

“Heather? Can you hear me? I—I...” Khonsu was panicking, frantic about what to do as Heather sat there in shock.

Finally, Heather came around, waking up from her trance as a flash of light flared in her mind. She jumped to her feet, pushing Khonsu off of her.

“Heath—“ Khonsu got to his feet.

Heather stepped back, scared. “I—I—I have to go.” She sprinted off, as purple blotches appeared on her face and skin, and her wings disappeared from her back.

She had gained the moon arcanum.

And there was only one place she could go to search for answers on what had happened to her and how to stop it.

The Archmage’s home.

[dragon-fics]

HA: Ch. 3  The Meeting

Chapter summary: Heather is called by Zubeia to bring Aaravos to a meeting. While waiting to be invited up to her chamber, Heather catches up with an old acquaintance.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

Note: The idea of the ‘primal steed’ is based on Aaravos’ mount in S3E6

Heather walked out of her en-suite bathroom, plaiting her hair as the first few rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon. She looked over at the caterpillar as it sat on her bed.

“Morning, Sparkles,” she greeted, running her hands over her clean Dragonguard uniform.

The caterpillar eyed her for a moment before coming closer to her. “What is happening today?” Aaravos asked.

Heather raised a brow. “I’m sure Zubeia has a meeting with King Ezran of Katolis today,” she said, turning to the mirror on her wall as she put on her horn cuffs and earrings. “To talk to him about travelling to the Human Kingdoms—probably to release you from the mirror and to form a treaty between the royalty of each kingdom.” She turned to the caterpillar once she was ready.

“But for now we have to get to the Spire so she can talk to you about my, uh... training,” She held out her arms. “C’mon up.”

The caterpillar climbed up onto her arms and sat on her shoulder, wrapping some of its body around her torso to steady itself.

“Strangle me and I’ll kill you,” Heather threatened, looking the caterpillar in the eye.

“I would never,” Aaravos falsely gasped, sounding offended.

Heather smiled to herself before grabbing her bowblade and leaving her dorm.

As she turned the key in the door to lock it, she heard someone else leave their room down the hall. She turned to see who it was.

Her heart sank when she saw the firm-built, broad-shoulders, dirty blond hair and hunter-green facial scales and scaled wings of her father. He glanced at her, clenched his jaw, and walked away from his apartment door—one of the few in the barracks.

Heather watched silently as he walked away, forcing back her sorrow.

“You seem sad that he has not paid attention to you,” Aaravos started. “Who is he?”

Heather swallowed the lump in her throat. “That’s... That’s Scorchmark, he’s the Secretary of Defense.”

“So he’s your superior?” The caterpillar looked at Heather to him. “Why are you so... dejected?”

“He... He’s my father... adopted father.” The caterpillar looked back at her, wanting more of an explanation. “He’s disowned me since... my accident.”

“You’ve been all alone since then? With Khonsu abandoning you and your father doing the same... You really don’t have many people in your life, do you?”

Heather whipped her head around to glare at the caterpillar. “Are you going to teach me how to make friends as well as the arcana?” She asked cynically.

The caterpillar seemed to frown at her. “I have a feeling you have a very troubled past... or maybe just a cruel past. Either way, I see much darkness in your mind.”

“Get. Out. Of my. Head,” Heather seethed, flashing her sharp, white canines.

“I’m not in your head, you’re just terrible at hiding your emotions... also what do you think I did while the caterpillar was asleep.”

*-*-*-*

Heather looked down at her right blade, gently shaking it in her hand. She could feel the steel inside the handle move around loosely. She wasn’t too sure about how she had broken the blade, all she knew was that it was damaged and the blade would soon be useless to her, along with its bow form.

She sighed, looking up at the Storm Spire as the sun shone on her back and the caterpillar on her shoulder.

“Can you get it repaired?” Aaravos asked, noticing the jingling in the handle.

“I think so, I just need to travel to my least favourite place in Xadia to get it done.”

“Is that where the artisan lives?”

Heather sighed sadly and nodded. “Yeah.” She paused. “It’s not that I dislike him, I just dislike the other people who live in the village... all of them.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Moonshadow Elves,” she seethed.

“Then what about Khonsu?”

“Khonsu is—was different. He saw me as a living being, not something strange to make fun of. But now... I don’t know how he sees me.”

“To others you were ‘something strange to make fun of’?” Aaravos questioned.

“More than that; my life was a living nightmare for seven years.”

“Heather? Is that you?” Called a voice with an unmistakable Moonshadow elf accent.

Rayla, Heather thought with a sigh. Aaravos heard the thought, already putting the pieces together.

Heather drew in a quiet breath and put on her best fake smile.

“Rayla? Its great to see you again,” she lied, turning to face her. She was disappointed to see that she was still shorter than her, even if Rayla was older than her.

Rayla seemed to be genuinely glad to see her, which both surprised and angered Heather. “Gosh, how long as it been? About... Three?  four years?”

Heather nodded, still holding her smile. “Yeah about that.” And they’ve been the best four years of my life, she wanted to add.

The caterpillar slowly turned its head to face Rayla, chattering its beak at her; Aaravos had heard her thoughts.

Rayla took a step back. “Why do you have that?” She asked, her discomfort clear in her tone and expression.

Heather glanced at the caterpillar with a calm expression. “Oh, him? He’s under my protection for the time being.” She shrugged. Rayla’s expression worsened.

“Riiight,” she glanced aside. “Oh, here are Callum and Ezran.”

Heather turned to where Rayla was looking. Moving towards them were three humans; a tall, pale-skinned blond one donned in armour; a shorter brunet one; and an even shorter dark-skinned one carrying a yellow and turquoise glow toad.

Heather had seen them all briefly before; the shortest was King Ezran of Katolis; the older one was Prince Callum, a human who knew the sky arcanum; and Soren one of Katolis’ top soldiers—according to Janai.

As they for close Heather bowed to King Ezran. “It’s an honour to meet you, Your Majesty.”

King Ezran raised his hand to contradict her when he saw something come closer behind her. “Is that... a unicorn?” He tilted his head to the side. “Callum! Look!”

They all turned to where Ezran was pointing. Trotting towards them was a white unicorn with a tall spiralling horn, a long mane, a narrow tail with a poof of hair at the end, and feathering on its lower legs.

Heather smiled. “Oh, that’s Réalta—my primal steed.”

“Primal steed?” Questioned Prince Callum.

The unicorn nickered as it walked up to Heather. She smiled at him and stroked his face. At her touch, his coat changed to black and red—almost resembling burning coals—his mane, tail, horn, and cannons burst into flames; fire licking at his neck, lower legs, yellow horn and at the end of his narrow tail. His build also changed from being a slender unicorn, to a bulkier cob horse build. To add to his fiery form was a set of giant black and red feathered wings.

Réalta pushed against his partner’s hand, happy to see her again. He looked at the caterpillar on Heather’s shoulders with a glowing yellow eye, touching minds with it.

For now, his is not a threat, but I will need your help watching him until Phil is reborn again. Heather said to him.

As you wish, partner-of-mind-and-soul, said Réalta. His voice was youthful, but not as young sounding as Heather’s.

“He’s beautiful!” Ezran breathed, stepping closer.

He’s also not a threat, none of them are, Heather said to Réalta. She stepped aside and Réalta lowered his head to Ezran.

Heather smiled. “He says he is honoured to meet you, Your Majesty.”

“I know,” Ezran chimed. “I heard him.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty. I was unaware you had such an ability.”

Ezran smiled at her. “May I?” He asked Heather, raising his hand to stroke Réalta.

Heather looked to Réalta. “If he permits.”

Ezran looked to Réalta, who pressed his nose against Ezran’s hand.

“How can he be a primal steed and a unicorn?” Callum asked. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he added as Heather turned to him.

She crossed her arms against her sash. “When dark magic first became... popular, unicorns were hunted to near extinction. Some bound themselves to elves and to take on a form that represented the elf’s arcanum or arcana. With this bond, they not only got a new form, but they could communicate with each other telepathically within a certain distance.” She looked at Réalta. “So, as you can see, my arcana are sun and sky.”

“That’s incredible. How did you two become bound?” Callum asked, getting a closer look at Réalta.

“It was about...” Heather placed her hand to her chin, thinking. “Seven or so years ago, when I was out hunting by myself, when I came across a herd of unicorns. I guess Réalta just saw himself in me or wanted to bring out the best in me—I was a pretty lonely child. He was a foal at the time—and was very cute.”

Réalta lifted his head and snorted. I was not!

Heather’s lips lifted into a smirk. “Were too.”

“You never told me about him!” Rayla accused dramatically. “And we shared a room for all those years and you never told me about this handsome steed of yours?” She walked closer to Réalta. “Some sister you are,” she said in a false accusing tone. Réalta raised his head and backed away from her slowly.

“What is it?” She asked him. Réalta stood still and tall, looking down at Rayla fiercely. Rayla turned to Heather for an answer. But before she could get one, a call came from above.

“Scorchmarkdaughter!” Called a voice from above. Heather flinched at the name but whipped her head up to look at the source of the voice, as did her animal familiars. It was a Sunfire elf soldier from Lux Aurea. “Queen Zubeia wishes to speak with you!”

[dragon-fics]

HA: Ch. 14 The Stars

Chapter summary: Finally home, Heather's studies become more regular.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

The spring sun beamed down on the returning troops as they neared Spireville’s giant portcullis. A strange bubbling sensation tickled Heather from the inside out. It was so strong she had to force herself to hold her rigid form in Réalta’s saddle. The last time she had felt like this was when she first arrived in Spireville, with word that she’d be taking the Dragonguard test.

Excitement about returning to Spireville? She couldn’t understand it.

Khonsu slid closer to her on Elara, a smirk decorating his face.

“Yes?” Heather addressed, barely holding her stoic face and voice.

His smile got bigger. “You’re giddy,” he mused.

Aaravos chuckled, and Heather shot him a glare. “So?”

Khonsu shrugged. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen you so excited,” he said. “So, what’s got the great Heather Scorchmarkdaughter excited? Is it earning your stars?”

She sighed, barely able to hold her toes still in her boots. The thought of earning her stars did not offend her. But she was fairly sure that wasn’t the reason behind her giddiness. “I’m not sure. I think it’s seeing Papa again.” She looked down, tapping the ebony pommel of Réalta’s saddle.

Up ahead, the heavy flapping of large wings caught her attention. Queen Zubeia was soaring off, Azymondias in her paws, towards her perch. No sooner had she disappeared into the blankets of the clouds, Rayla rode back to the trio as the rest of the troops separated.

Heather reined in Réalta as Rayla’s Shadowpaw bounded closer. “Yes, Rayla?” she addressed squashing any irritation she had towards her.

“Zubeia said we don’t need to return to the Storm Spire,” Rayla said. “She said she’ll give you new orders in the morning and that you no longer need to watch over the Archmage.”

Heather nodded. “Thank you, Rayla.” She touched the Dragonguard badge she’d turned into a necklace, and her uniform disappeared, revealing her figure-hugging gold and red-accented tunic-length top, black leggings, gold-tipped knee-high boots and brown pauldron.

She trotted away, back to her parents.

Heather glanced at the mages on either side of her. “So, what do we do now?”

Khonsu sighed. “Well, I’d rather not go back to my empty dorm just yet. And I have been interested in seeing how an archmage lives?” He cocked a shoulder at Aaravos.

Aaravos hummed. “I suppose I could need some help with settling back in. I’m sure there’s some cleaning to be done.” He looked at Heather. “Will you accompany us?”

Heather froze, remembering the damage she’d done to the locked doors of Aaravos’ home. She shook her head. “No. I… have to catch up with Papa. Make sure he’s been doing alright without me.”

He looked aside. “I would be interested in getting a better look at these barracks. And I might as well introduce myself to my apprentice’s parent.”

“Student,” she corrected, nudging Réalta into walking.

Aaravos hummed. “Are we still disagreeing?” Urú, his primal stead, trotted up beside Réalta.

Heather huffed. “I have no intention of being a master of magic, or an archmage.”

“To the barracks, then?”

She looked at Khonsu. He nodded. “Any better way to spend my time,” he shrugged.

Heather pushed Réalta into a canter and waved up to the guards in the turrets. As the others caught up to her, the portcullis lifted open with a slow, creaking motion. They cantered under the gate and slowed to a trot when they were inside.

Spireville was filled with indistinct chattering and had an all-round lively feel after being shut down for since Avizandum’s death. A beaming smile arouse on Heather’s face; it was nice to have things back to normal.

Phil chirped from her pouch by her leg and peeked his fiery head out. He flapped his tiny wings to perch himself on the pommel of Réalta’s saddle. He whistled happily, his feathers shimmering in the morning light.

Heather stroked his head with her finger and glanced around. “Do you want to look around first, Sparkles?” she asked, looking at Aaravos.

He shook his head. “I’ll have plenty of time to see the town. Right now, I’d rather inform your father of your progress.” He glanced back at the saddle bag draped over Urú’s back. It was the bag that held all those things he insisted on bringing from his prison. Heather had caught him in the dead of night sewing with silver, gold and purple tread, creating some sort of garment, or garments.

Heather glanced at the bag. “Do you know where they are?”

Aaravos held his head high. “Of course, I do.”

She shook her head. He had evaded all her questions, answering them truthfully, but not wholly. It was aggravating. “Of course.” She looked around at the various stalls near the gate. The sweet scent of fruits and vegetables filled her nostrils as they walked past. It was good to be back.

Heather peered over the lines and line of houses, spotting the two broadest buildings in the town; the elven and draconic-shifters’ barracks. Réalta bounced into a trot with her growing excitement. He wound his way through the crowd, being careful of who was around them.

The others followed the flaming Pegasus through the sea of elves and shifters, and down the wide street until they stood in front of the wide, open gates of the draconic barracks. Its broad, cobblestone front wall stared back at them as various colourful shifters went about their day, preparing to go to the training fields. At the bottom of the barracks, stone bifurcated stairs, was Scorchmark, watching as the soldiers went about their day.

“And who’s that handsome dragon-shifter?”

Heather whipped her head around at Aaravos; he was looking at the same person she had been looking at. She heard Khonsu burst out laughing. “Don’t you remember?”

“No. I couldn’t see very well with the caterpillar.”

“That,” she started, “is Pa—Scorchmark. That is Scorchmark, the Secretary of Defence.”

“Oh.” A small smirk appeared on his face. “Well, my point still stands.”

Heather huffed. She’d never seen her papa dating anyone. But there was someone, a long time ago. From when they were cadets, to privates, to the great 148th company, Captain Flame. Papa had been his first lieutenant, until almost twenty years ago, when he went MIA in the middle of a battle, which led to Scorchmark and dozens of others being injured. He was the best fire mimicker and pure fire dragon among the Orphan Generation. Most believed that he left to elope with an elven woman; Scorchmark and Heather knew she forced him to leave; but that didn’t lessen the pain of the heartbreak.

But without Flame disappearing, Scorchmark wouldn’t have been on injury leave for the length he was on, allowing him to come across Heather.

So as much she resented that fire dragon-shifter, she had to thank him, for without him she wouldn’t have her papa. She just wished she could help him fly.

Heather glanced from Aaravos. “Just… get to know him first. Papa… takes a while to recognise he likes people.” She hoped that wasn’t telling him too much.

He nodded. “Are you saying you approve?”

Was she? She looked at Scorchmark. “Papa is a grown dragon. He can make his own choices.” She held her head up. “Just remember how sharp my blades are.”

Aaravos glanced at her saddle, to where her bowblade usually was. “Blades that are being replaced as we speak.”

Heather pulled out a couple of daggers from her belt and held up her sword-whip. “What was that, Sparkles?”

“Heather,” said a stern voice with a central accent, neither Moonshadow nor Skywing. “Stop threatening the Archmage.”

Her gaze lingered on Aaravos, and she put her weapons away. She looked down at the dragon-shifter, lingering on the hunter-green scales on his cheeks and his emerald eyes. “Of course, sir.”

Scorchmark gave her a small smile and quickly reset his face. “So, you must be Aaravos? I’ve been eager to meet you.”

Aaravos gave heather a look that screamed “watch me win his heart”. He graciously slid off Urú’s saddle. “Pleasure to meet you, Secretary.” He held out his hand to shake.

Scorchmark snorted amusingly. “Oh, please. Only their majesties call me that. Stick to Scorchmark, and nothing else.”

He nodded. “Of course.” Aaravos glanced back at Heather. “I have some matters to discuss with you, regarding Heather’s education and training.”

Scorchmark paused. “Certainly. Come along.” He turned around, walking toward the stairs.

Aaravos gestured his head, telling Heather to follow. She gave Khonsu a sympathetic look and got off Réalta, taking her weapons and belongings. Phil perched himself on Heather’s pauldron, chirping goodbye. In a flash of light, his tack disappeared, and he spread his fiery wings. He nickered a farewell and took off, heading for the mysterious forest to the south.

Khonsu watched with awe as he left. “I’ll let you deal with this awkward situation,” he quipped, turning around. “Good luck!” Elara canter out of the cobblestone courtyard and into the street.

Heather sighed and walked away, feeling strangely disappointed that Khonsu had other things to do. She followed Aaravos and Scorchmark inside, unsure what exactly she was wanted for.

*-*-*-*

It turned out Heather was just needed to make sure her lesson plans suited her timetable. And so far, they’d been going well. She’d learned more about the arcana, and spells, and she’d built up more magic, holding spells for longer. Along with that, Heather had discovered her knack for fire mimicking and water mimicking. The only problem was that there was no one to teach her, so she was learning from ancient scrolls—which was next to nothing.

And for weeks that was how life was; get up, eat, train with the Dragonguard, eat again, magic lessons, dinner, working some fire art, sleep. Until the summer solstice arrived.

Heather was reading another one of Aaravos’ memoirs, desperate to crack the star arcanum and get this unfinished form off her. She sat at the kitchen table in Scorchmark’s sun-washed apartment, twisting her golden hooped earring and twirling the chain that connected it to its horn cuff. A cool breeze blew in from the open balcony doors behind her, tickling her back.

Scorchmark stared at her from his spot by the counter. The gold cuffs clashed with her white hair.

“I think it’s time for a new set,” he mused, drumming his pointed nails against the metal mug.

Heather looked up from her book. “New set of what?”

Scorchmark bobbed his head to gesture to her horns. “Jewelry.”

Her hand moved to the golden cuffs. She’d worn them since she moved to Spireville after boot camp. It felt like she’d be losing part of herself by switching them to something else. “I suppose so,” she said sadly.

He gave her a small smile, kissing her head. “Well, if you don’t want to switch them for a new pair, perhaps we could get the same set, just in a different colour. That way it won’t be much of a change.”

A shiver of excitement rippled through Heather. She put down the memoir in her hands and looked around the room. Why did those words cause such a reaction? Her heart skipped a beat. “The same thing,” she breathed.

“Everything alright, Bush?” Scorchmark asked, sensing her change in mood. He frowned at her, concerned.

Heather rushed to her feet, grabbing her satchel from the couch on the other side of the room. She yanked out her journal, flipping through it frantically as she found the arcana meanings section.

She pinned it to the table, grabbing her piece of lead and wooden. The star arcanum is every piece of magic in disguise, she scribbled. The sun is a star; the stars are mysterious and rarely seen—moon; they are free of all attachment—sky; they hold secrets of the past—earth; and are untamed—ocean. The stars impact on everything, and as such, they deal with truth and wishes and intelligence. That is why few are granted the honour of bearing their mark.

Heather sat down, the room wavering around her. It felt so right, yet it felt so alien. She held her head in her yellow hands. Could she have solved it?

Scorchmark touched her shoulder. “Heather, what is it?”

She took a shaky breath. “I… think I learned the Star arcanum.”

Not a moment after she said the words, a flash blinded them at the end of the table. Phil squawked in terror and flapped over to heather’s shoulder, his adolescent wings prepared to frighten away the light.

Heather winced and sighed, pushing aside her epiphany; she hated this spell. It always put Phil in a frenzy. “Sparkles, how many times to I have to tell you?” She crossed her arms, unimpressed by his literal drop in.

When the light faded, Aaravos stood in its place. “You solved it, didn’t you?” he rushed over to grip her arms.

“Yes. I think so.” She scanned her body and peered over her shoulders. “Why don’t I have any wings? And why am I not covered in glitter?”

He frowned. “There is more to becoming a Startouch elf than just knowing the Star arcanum.”

Heather’s shoulders dropped. Despair and betrayal climbed through her body. She drew in a long breath. “What?” she asked, staying as calm as she could and forcing a smile.

“To gain your stars, you must be tested, tonight. To ensure you’re worthy of the star arcanum.”

She clenched her jaw. “What happens if I fail?” she’d never failed at anything, not in so long. But magic wasn’t her strong suit.

“I don’t know,” Aaravos said slowly. “All I know is that no one who has ever learned the arcanum has ever failed.”

Heather knew he was trying to inspire hope in her, and she didn’t like it. “Well, I haven’t exactly been studying for years though, have I?” she looked away. “What can I do to prepare?”

“Come with me now, and I’ll guide you through it.” He held out his hand.

She glanced back at Scorchmark, terrified for the first time in… a long time.

“She’ll be staying the night with me and be back in the morning,” Aaravos said, giving him a reassuring smile.

Scorchmark nodded, rising from his chair kissing her head. “I know you’ll do great. I love you, Little Bush.”

Heather smiled. “Thank you, Papa. I love you too.” She took Aaravos’ hand. “Ok. Let’s go.”

[dragon-fics]

HA: Ch. 16 The Apprentice and Her Master

Chapter summary: Left in the void alone, Heather must confront the mysterious person who is supposedly waiting for her

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

The figures faded away, and Heather stood in silence. Her muscles relaxed; she wasn’t even aware she was so tense. Heather glanced around the dark abyss, trembling slightly as it all hit her. She had passed their test… the test she wasn’t even sure she had even the slightest chance of passing. Heather drew in a long breath and hugged herself.

“Can—,” her voice was small and shaken, “can I talk to Aaravos now?”

The abyss stayed silent and dark; there was no sign of this person. Heather sighed and walked forward, head low and arms close to her stomach. She wished she could wake up already. Tonight had been exciting enough.

Then a whoosh and a bright light came from behind her. Heather turned around, looking at the pale portal in front of her. “Hello?”

Out of the portal came a dark figure, nowhere near as tall as the most talkative member of the council., but still taller than Heather, by about a foot. Long white locks billowed behind them as they walked forward, eyes and chest glowing.

Heather squinted. “Aaravos?”

The glowing portal faded away, allowing her to get a better look at the figure heading towards her.

He smiled. “You did excellent, Heather.”

She grinned. “Heh, it’s all your training, Sparkles.” She drifted towards him. “So… are you the one they were talking about?” She reached for his hand to ensure he was actually there. To her relief, she could hold it.

He gently wrapped his cool fingers around her and, ensuring her further, a small smile slipping onto his face. Aaravos shook his head, his smile fading away. “I don’t think so.”

Heather frowned and looked around at the abyss. Who else could want to see her?

Another orb of light appeared close by and slowly lowered itself to the ‘ground’. Its light faded away to reveal another elf… but this one was very much unlike the others. They didn’t have skin that reminded Heather of the heavens. Instead, their skin was almond brown with patches of grey and stars scattered around their body. They had short, undercut, bob cut silver hair and deer-like antlers on their head. They were lean built with pointed features, looking both but neither masculine nor feminine.

Heather peered at them and unconsciously reached for her facial markings. Theirs were very similar to hers. “Who… are you?”

They chuckled and looked at Aaravos. “Care to tell her, Master?”

Heather looked back at him, still holding his hand. She frowned. In none of his memoirs, had she found any mention of an apprentice.

Aaravos stare silently at the young elf. For the first time, Heather saw him stunned.

They came closer, a smile on their face. “It’s good to see you too, Father.”

Heather’s frown deepened. This was getting more convoluted by the second. This elf was revealing so much so quickly.

Aaravos released her hand and placed his hand on the mystery elf’s cheek, smiling down at them. “I thought I lost you, Elluin.”

They smiled, a tear rolling down their face. “You could never lose me.” Elluin looked at Heather. “not while she’s around.” They wiped away their tears and moved over to stand in front of Heather.

She glanced from them to Aaravos and wiped away his own stray tear. “So… who are you?”

They chuckled. “I am Elluin. And I was you in your past life. I am also the one who deliver you your prophecy.” They rolled their eyes.

Heather barked a laugh. “Exactly.”

Elluin smiled. “Shall we get started? And I’ll explain everything.”

*~*~*~*

Heather sat up groggily, morning sunshine blinding her as it poured into her eyes like burning lava. She groaned, glancing around the sun washed teal room. The night hadn’t seemed real, yet she could remember everything but her prophecy. She sighed, getting off out of the shallow pool of water, her gold and black outfit bone dry. She hummed and stepped out onto the steps, her bare feet warmed by the sun-touched tiles.

She opened the door of the room and walked down the long corridor. For a long moment, she was mesmerized, caught up in a web of her own thoughts. She had been destined to meet Aaravos? Heather found it hard to believe. She wound her way through his vast home, making her way down to the small kitchen and living area of his gigantic house.

He had mentioned that the tiny room was the heart of the house, where Aaravos had some of his greatest moments. At the time, Heather thought he meant achievements, but now she knew it had something to do with Elluin.

Heather entered the small kitchen, looking out at the large glass window that overlooked the Midnight Desert and Lux Aurea in the distance. She hopped up onto the violet stool by the obsidian counter, attempting to grasp what had happened last night. She stared at the black counter top as she thought, not noticing Aaravos walking in after her.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Good morning, Heather.”

“Morning,” she mumbled, coming out of her thoughts.

He smirked, tracing his hand over part of her she didn’t quite recognise.

Heather’s heart leapt, and she spun off the stool. Aaravos barely moved out of the way in time, and she spun around. On her back were a set of large wings, with the same ombre of indigo to yellow as her arms. She stretched them out, getting a long look at their glittering beauty. But they weren’t just glittering in the sun… they were twinkling with stars. Heather froze, her silver eyes narrowing. She looked at her hands. Stars were scattered across her skin. She took a quick peek down at her top. A small, white symbol of the star arcanum was embedded in her skin, high on her chest.

A muffled squeal escaped Heather as he spun around to face Aaravos. She chuckled madly and hopped on the spot. She dove into a hug, wrapping her arms around Aaravos. “Thank you,” Heather whispered.

Aaravos looked down at her, a soft smile on his face. He placed the bundle of clothing on the counter. “No, thank you, Heather.” He gently hugged her back. They stood there for a while, in each other’s embrace.

She slowly released him, stepping away with a broad smile. Her gaze drifted over to the bundle of clothing. She stepped forward, eyeing it curiously. “These are the garments you’ve been working on at night.” She observed.

Aaravos frowned. “Yes, they are.” He placed a silvery hand on top of the pile. “They’re for you.”

Heather glanced from him to the garments. “For me?”

He inclined his head. “I made them for when you passed your test, so you’d have clothes that suited you.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Thanks, Sparkles.” She picked up the clothes. “Lets try them on, I guess.” She scuttled away with the bundle, leaving Aaravos standing in the room on his own. He reached for his sewing things, finishing a piece of embroidery.

When Heather returned, a figure-hugging black and purple tunic-length vest hung on her body. A small window was cut out for her star to shine through, and its core held an overlapping pointed design. Her leggings ended at her foot, allowing her feet to touch the ground. She presumed it was for her mimicking.

Heather spun around. “I love it!” she hissed. She then reached for the last piece of clothing. A cloak. It was the same black design as Aaravos’ with a silver accent to match her eyes. On the pointed hood were the symbols of the sun and sky arcana. She threw it on, liking that it ended above the knee for swift movement. She squealed again. “we’ll be a matching master and apprentice duo.” She grinned.

Aaravos chuckled, turning around. “That we can. But I have one more thing for you, Heather.” He drew a rune, something long and silver appearing in his hands. As he turned around, Heather got a better look at the long object. It was a slender pole with a large silver ring at one end. Between the ring and the tip of the pole, a large stone was embedded. In the ring were five other stones. Each one shone a different colour; one yellow, one teal, another deep blue, one emerald green, another pale blue, and the centre one was a shimmering lilac.

“I present to you the Apprentice Archmage’s staff.” He held it out to her. “For my apprentice.”

Heather smiled, taking the staff from him gently, getting used to its feel. “Thank you, Master.”

~The End~

There was supposed to be an epilogue, but it had no real purpose in the story and unfortunately I’m rather stuck for time. Thank you for sticking around and seeing the end of the book. If you would like to see the continuation, its first chapter is up, titled His Home. it won’t revolve very much about any of the canon Dragon Prince characters, it’s just set in the Dragon Prince universe. Thank you all so much for getting me 2,000 reads on this story. I will edit it sometime later this year or mid next year, depending on how life goes for me. Thanks again!

EmmaPRIME